made bed; an icon of Our Lady of the Forge on whitewashed walls. The room was monastic in its simplicity.
She opened the wardrobe and grimaced. Black, black, and black. And Cassi thought Taya's wardrobe was limited. Cristof had no imagination whatsoever. Wait — a spot of brilliance squashed in the back caught her eye. Taya pushed aside his suits and coats to see what secret vice Cristof was concealing in the back of his armoire.
'Oh.' She stared.
It was an exalted's robe, wrinkled and musty-smelling. Its gems seemed dull in the dim light, and its gold- and-silver embroidery was dark with age. An ivory mask hung by silk cords from the robe's hangar. Taya touched the mask's smooth surface, feeling gritty dust covering it.
The robe reeked of old secrets and strong emotion. Of something hidden and tainted that Cristof couldn't quite bring himself to discard.
Of guilt, maybe.
Taya let the rest of the suits fall back to cover the robe and closed the wardrobe door. So far she hadn't found anything to warrant her trespass. On the one hand, she was relieved. Alister would be happy if his brother turned out to be innocent. But on the other hand, Taya couldn't help but hope she'd find something that would excuse her ugly suspicions. If Cristof didn't have anything to hide, she was going to owe him a very humble apology.
She looked at the books and felt a twinge of optimism. Most of them were about clockwork and clocks, but a number of other titles sat on the shelves, as well. She examined the spines. Books on programming and foreign customs, explosives and religion, exalted genealogies and icarus armatures. Weapons, poisons, anatomy. She shivered. The bottom shelf was full of dog-eared directories. The official directories weren't surprising, but her eyebrows rose as she pulled out badly printed, back-alley directories to gambling houses and brothels, 'gentlemen's shows' and animal fights. Was this a side to the outcaste that she hadn't seen yet?
She found the wireferry map and opened it. Cristof's neat notes indicated time and distance from station to station. Other numbers were marked, too, and it took her a few minutes of reading to realize they were notations about repairs.
She refolded it, not certain what to think.
At the very end of the shelf she pulled out a small bundle of letters and official documents. Crouching, she paged through them, handling the old paper with care.
Coroner's Report: Emeline Forlore, Exalted.
The notes were taken in Cristof's small, neat handwriting. She skimmed the medical jargon, noting the words that stood out. Lacerations. Perforation. Fracture. Hemorrhage.
She looked at the date and the age of the victim. Emeline Forlore had been thirty-seven when she'd died. Violently.
She grimaced, set the report down, and moved on to letters signed by Viera, dated twenty-five years ago, written in wide, childish script.
Don't worry, Father says everything will be all right. Give Alister kisses for me. Three more weeks!!! I can hardly wait to see you again. We are painting two rooms for you. You will love them.
A small clipped obituary:
Emeline and Tadeus Forlore. No cause of death given. Survived by sons Cristof, 12, and Alister, 10.
A tabloid-sized page from
The Keyhole Peeper
Taya had never heard of it before. It was typeset on yellowing paper and dated around the time of Viera's letters.
Exalted Murder/Suicide Cover-Up?
She started to read the article when the shop burst into clamorous noise. Taya shrieked, then clapped a hand over her mouth. The clocks were chiming the hour.
Lady! She folded the article and jammed the bundle back where she'd found it. She'd lost track of time, and she had nothing to show for her search except a list of suspicious books, an inconclusive map, and some sad family secrets.
She wrapped her borrowed cloak around her and hurried back through the shop, cracking the door open to slip through.
The edge of the door hit Cristof in the face. He swore and recoiled, one hand over his nose.
'Oh.' Taya stared at him, shocked.
'You!' He drew his hand away from his nose and looked at it. Blood ran over his fingertips. 'Did you do this?' He pointed a crimson-stained finger at the jimmy marks in his door frame.
'No. I found the door that way, so I walked in,' Taya lied, her heart pounding. 'I didn't see you inside, so I was just leaving—'
'Give me your knife.'
'What?'
He wiped a fresh trickle of blood from under his nose and held out his stained hand.
'Give me your knife. The one on your harness.'
'Why?' She stepped back, alarmed.
'Because I'm going to match the blade to these marks,' he said, glaring at her. 'And if they look alike, I'm going to call the lictors and have you arrested for breaking and entering.'
'Don't be ridiculous.' She drew herself up. 'I walked in to see if you were all right! Someone might have left you hurt, or tied up.'
'Did you leave me any presents?'
'Presents?' Taya was taken aback. 'What do you mean?'
'You know what I mean. The kinds of presents that start fires,' he growled. 'Or maybe just a mutilated punch card.'
'Punch card? If there are any mutilated punch cards in here, they're yours!' she snapped, flushing. 'Maybe the lictors will find them tucked inside all your books about explosives and poison!'
'You did break in!' Cristof crowed, triumphantly.
'I—'
A low, distant boom made both of them stop and look up.
An orange glow burned briefly on the side of the mountain far above them, just visible through the sooty haze in the air.
'Lady help us.' Cristof sounded shaken, his face still turned upward. 'What have you done?'
'My wings.' Taya turned and ran, swearing at herself for leaving her wings behind while she was on duty.
Two minutes later, wailing sirens began to sound across the city, calling an emergency. Taya ran faster, pushing and shoving past the gawkers who stood in the streets and lined the bridges, staring up the mountain.
Jayce was standing in front of his shop when she reached Secundus. Taya dashed past him and grabbed her wings, dragging them outside. She stripped off the cloak and left it on the sooty cobblestones.
'What happened?' she asked, thrusting her arms through the armature and grabbing straps and buckles. Icarii were already circling overhead, summoned by the sirens to offer emergency assistance.
'I don't know. I heard an explosion. People are saying it's another wireferry.'
'On Primus?'
'Higher, I think.' Jayce squinted. 'I think it's the ferry to Oporphyr Tower.'
'Oh, no.' Taya closed the keel over her chest and yanked its buckles tight. 'Oh, Lady, no. Not another one.
